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Blood Lines - Blood Price Part 2

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One of the men cursed and reached out to touch her arm. Nikia turned on him, hissing. He flinched and she wondered what he had seen in her eyes that frightened him so much that he backed away quickly enough to stumble. She didn't want to think about it and she didn't have time to anyway. She slipped into the back and slammed the door just as Atar emerged from the crowd. "Go," she shouted, and her voice echoed around the small confines of the car, causing both she and the driver to wince.

"Where,Fraulein ?"

"Anywhere. Just move." Her eyes locked with Atar's as the car pulled away from the curb. She saw the frustration and anger in his eyes before the car outdistanced him. She trembled, knowing he wouldn't give up.

"Where are we going?"

"I need to get out of Zurich. What's the fastest way?"



He c.o.c.ked his head. "You could take a train from Main Station. It's just a couple of kilometers from here."

"That's fine." Nikia couldn't relax as the driver wove through traffic, into the heart of Central Zurich. He followed the curve of the circular street around Limmat River, which separated them from the train station. She fought the mad urge to throw herself from the back of the car and swim across the river in hopes of shaving a few minutes off her escape. It seemed to take forever for the driver to reach the west side of the station and he got in the line of cars waiting to expel their pa.s.sengers at the arched entrance of the light-brown brick building. Nikia grasped her garment bag and tossed a handful of Euros onto the front seat. "I'll get out here." She didn't wait for a response as she got out of the car and rushed down the sidewalk to the entrance. She spared a scant glance for the monument in front of the station but took no time to examine the statues. Nor did she pay much attention to the statues adorning the roof when she rushed inside. She skidded to a halt, trying to get her bearings.

People milled around the station, darting in and out of various arched entryways. Several had cl.u.s.tered under the timetable but Nikia didn't pause to study it. She didn't have the luxury of choosing a specific destination. She would take whatever was available and leaving immediately because Atar couldn't be far behind.

She bypa.s.sed the stairs that would take her to the second level and went to the ticket counters. A harried-looking woman with a large mole above the left side of her mouth gestured her forward. She went to the window, still glancing behind her.

"Destination?" she asked in German. "What's leaving right away?"

The woman glanced at her computer. "There's a train leaving for Milan on Platform 21."

Nikia nodded. "That's fine." She took out her identification in the name of Nicole Desmarteau and enough Euros to cover her ticket. She drummed her fingers impatiently against the counter while the clerk processed her ticket. The woman sniffed her disapproval and seemed to be making the transaction her life's work. Nikia s.n.a.t.c.hed up the printed ticket as soon as the woman slid it through the window and darted into the crowd.

There was a map of the train station on the back of the ticket that allowed Nikia to navigate through the crowd and arrive at Platform 21, where a large group stood, with several people streaming onto the train.

She pushed between an embracing couple to board the train, taking a window seat facing the platform so she could see who was approaching.

The train whistled just as Atar came into her view. Nikia's breath caught in her throat and she tightened her hands around the bag draped over her lap, preparing for him to board and force her off. She was determined to scream and draw as much attention as possible but didn't hold much hope for help from authorities. He no doubt possessed extradition papers and as soon as they realized her ident.i.ty was false, the police would hand her over to him.

Maybe luck was with her because the train eased forward. She closed her eyes, daring to hope it was too late for him to board. She opened them again quickly, knowing she had to keep him in sight. Her heart leaped when a uniformed employee stopped Atar as he tried to board. The train picked up speed while he argued with the man and she let her stiff posture relax slightly.

When he shook his head and turned away, she dared to breathe again. For now, she had a reprieve.

The train gained momentum and she laid her head against the thickly padded seat, allowing the tension in her nerves to dissipate. She had evaded him again.

But for how long? He would keep coming. Crazy as it sounded, he must have some sort of mental fix on her as he had claimed to be able to keep finding her. Wherever she went, she wouldn't be able to escape him.

She didn't think geographic distance posed a problem for his ability, so even fleeing to America or Australia wouldn't stop him from coming for her. She would spend the rest of her life on the run. If he stopped pursuing her, Anca would send someone else. She was convinced Nikia was a threat.

The pounding in her head made her acknowledge she was. Her control was tenuous and she feared Illiana would eventually overpower her again. When her mother's mind obliterated her own, she would be dangerous once more.

She bit back a hysterical laugh. She was the only thing standing between Illiana and her quest for power.

With her fledgling strength and inability to withstand the migraines for more than a few hours at a time, what chance did she have? She should return to Corsova and let Anca deal with the situation, even if it meant her death.

Tears burned her eyes when she contemplated that course of action. It would be for the best, perhaps, but she couldn't do it. Not yet. She had barely had any time to experience life. It wasn't fair to expect her to voluntarily surrender her body just yet, even to stop her mother. She would later, if she couldn't control Illiana any longer. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She had no way of knowing when Illiana would overwhelm her.

Unless she could eradicate all traces of her mother, she had to return to Corsova while still lucid.

Nikia's eyes snapped open when she experienced a glimmer of hope. Perhaps the answer rested with her grandmother's people, in Minsk. If anyone would know how to banish Illiana, surely someone there would. They would help her. They had to.

Just having a plan filled Nikia with a sense of peace and she was able to relax completely. She closed her eyes and dozed during the train ride from Zurich to Milan, vaguely planning how she would evade Atar long enough to catch a flight to Minsk. She must have a few hours on him, so she would be able to go to the airport, buy a ticket and be in Belarus before he could orient himself to her position. Once the threat of Illiana was removed, she would have no reason to fear returning to Corsova. Surely, Anca would give her the benefit of doubt if she returned voluntarily with an account of her mother's possession and subsequent vanquis.h.i.+ng.

Chapter 4.

The train station in Milan was busy. It was early evening, and many commuters were milling about. She kept her possessions close to her body and decided to stop long enough to buy a bag for her clothes and cash. It would be safer and more convenient to travel that way.

Despite her circ.u.mspection, she couldn't help looking up at the skylights in the ceiling, where gla.s.s covered the steel beams, allowing glimpses of the first stars in the darkening twilight. It was a beautiful sight, and the architecture temporarily enraptured her.

She tore her gaze from the ceiling when she felt someone pulling on her garment bag. A young woman stood in front of her, trying to wrestle away the carrier. Nikia held on, knowing she could afford to lose the clothes but not the envelope of money and miscellaneous identification she had put in the zipped bag right before getting off the train.

She pulled hard, knocking the woman to the ground. When Nikia saw her in the light from an overhead lamp, she realized it was just a teenager, who couldn't be older than fifteen. She looked up and saw two uniformedpolizia headed their way. "Get out of here, kid." It wasn't entirely kindness that prompted her to give the girl a break. She didn't have time to deal with the police.

The girl just sat there, staring up at her with a look of confusion and a hint of suspicion. It was obvious she didn't understand English. Nikia tried German and garnered another blank look. She didn't bother with Corsovan, the only other language in which she was fluent. She tried to remember any Italian phrases but all that came to mind was how to say she didn't speak Italian, andlitro , which was a liter.

Neither was useful for the situation and she gave up on verbal communication.

She pointed in the direction of thepolizia , and the girl finally caught her urgency. She scrambled to her feet and rushed off through the crowd, as Nikia turned away, seeking to avoid the authorities. She groaned when she saw another uniformedpolizia grab the young hoodlum by the collar of her jacket.

She kept going, determined to avoid the situation but had no choice about stopping when one of the officers put a hand on her arm. He spoke something in Italian and she said, "Non parlo Italiano." "Si, Signorina." He switched to English, with a thick accent. "Please come with me."

She shook her head. "Why?"

"The girl-" He pointed to the teenager trying to free herself from the other officer's hold. "You must file a complaint."

"Really, I don't have the time."

He frowned. "She is a repeat offender. You must."

Nikia didn't think she was required to do anything but didn't know how to extricate herself. She ended up walking beside the officer into the main part of the station. She paused momentarily at her first sight of the sheer beauty of the vaulted ceiling, made from decoratively carved brown stone, interspersed with skylights in the ceiling every few feet. Suspended bra.s.s lamps completed the picture, giving the building charm.

He led her into a private office, along with the girl, who was still trying to fight the officer, even in handcuffs. She shouted and appeared to be cursing in her native tongue.

The officer sat her down at a desk and removed his hat. He was young and handsome. Nikia's eyes strayed to the pulse at his throat and her stomach growled. It had been hours since she ate at the hotel in Zurich and even longer since partaking of blood. The craving came on so strong she started to perspire.

Why here, why now? Why did this young man, a member of thepolizia , have to be so appealing?

"This will not take long,Signorina ." He launched into a series of questions.

Nikia answered as quickly as she could. She was aware of the girl screaming from a nearby office, spicing up her dialog with s.n.a.t.c.hes of English expletives. By the time the officer finished questioning her, his face was bright red with embarra.s.sment. Which only served to heighten her hunger, making her even more aware of the blood pounding in his veins and staining his neck and cheeks. She whimpered and her headache increased in severity.

"Signorina?" He extended a hand. "Are you feeling ill?"

She waved a hand, using the other to cradle her head. "I have a migraine. Are we finished?"

"Si."

She didn't bother with pleasantries as she gathered up her bag and left the office. Her eyes fell on the large clock mounted on the wall and she cursed when she realized she had lost almost an hour. Atar must have caught the next train after hers. She didn't know when that one had left Zurich, so she approached the ticket counter. The man behind the counter looked bored as he waited on the customers in front of her. His expression didn't change when she approached.

"h.e.l.lo. Can you tell me when the next train from Zurich is due to arrive?"

He looked at a sheet of paper. "Fifty minutes,Signorina ." His English was so thick as to be barely comprehensible.

She cringed. "When is the next train leaving?" "Where do you wish to go?"

"It doesn't matter. I just need the next train."

He turned to his computer. "There is a train leaving for Rome in twenty minutes."

"I'll take one ticket." Nikia fumbled for the stack of Euros she had tucked into the pocket of her pants, along with her pa.s.sport. She didn't need it to pa.s.s from Milan to Rome, but the station required picture ID. It was easier to give it than try to manipulate the man's mind with her head pounding so ferociously again.

When she had the ticket and knew she was supposed to go to Platform Four, Nikia left the line and went to one of the small shops. She purchased a carryon bag and ducked into the nearest ladies' room.

In the largest stall, she transferred her clothes, money and all identification into the suitcase, save for the items in her pocket.

She took time to freshen up briefly before leaving the restroom. She had just enough time to grab a sandwich from a vending machine before making her way to Platform Four. She had been onboard less than five minutes when the train pulled out. She had been so focused on the pa.s.sing time and of Atar's impending arrival that her shoulders seemed to have frozen in a permanent clench. It took several deep breaths for her to relax even a little.

She sighed, knowing there was little she could do for the moment. Perhaps in Rome, she would have a greater head start and be able to give him the slip long enough to board a flight for Minsk.

She opened her sandwich and took a bite of the stale white bread and graying roast beef. She tried to pretend it was as satisfying as a gla.s.s of Corsovan "wine" would have been but the sandwich did little to curb her appet.i.te.

She covered the sandwich and put it on her tray, intending to dispose of it in the trash when she got up.

She leaned back in the seat and tried to ease the pounding in her head. She should spend the four-and-a-half hour journey resting but was too keyed up with the hunger growing by the minute.

After an hour, Nikia could no longer think about anything except feeding. The need was so compulsory that she wondered if Illiana had magnified her appet.i.te in an attempt to weaken her. She couldn't risk getting fragile enough to allow Illiana to take over. She had to feed. When a young woman two aisles down got up and made her way to the restroom at the end of the berth, Nikia followed her, hoping she would have a chance to sup lightly from the girl.

The swaying of the car from side to side made Nikia lightheaded as she walked down the aisle. By the time she arrived in the facilities, she had to rest against the door. Her hand brushed the k.n.o.b and she was relieved to find a lock on the main door. She found the strength to stand straight and walk forward, ducking down to look for feet in any of the three cubicles. Only one was occupied-presumably by the woman she had followed into the bathroom.

Nikia returned to the door and clicked the lock. Then she went to the sink and pretended to be was.h.i.+ng her hands while the girl finished up. When she opened the stall door and emerged, it was all Nikia could do to keep from attacking her. Instead, she forced herself to remain by the sink, until the woman was within easy reach. She grabbed her quickly, pulling her close. Nikia pushed the girl up against the wall, clapping her hand over her mouth. She caught the girl's eyes. "You aren't going to scream, are you?"

Slowly, the girl shook her head. Nikia eased her hand away from the girl's mouth. "What's your name?"

"Kieta," she said in a distant voice, as if drugged. Her eyes were out-of-focus and she seemed to be deep in the dream state Nikia imposed.

"Kieta, I won't hurt you." She spoke in a soothing tone, even as she lowered her mouth to the young woman's neck. She breathed in the mingled scent of floral perfume and blood. Her head spun. She pushed the s.h.i.+rt off the girl's shoulder and her teeth extended. She buried her mouth against the girl's shoulder, seeking out a less dangerous vein to feed from than the carotid. She found one with her tongue and her teeth punctured the vein seconds later, bringing a rush of sweet blood.

Nikia drank lightly, denying Illiana's commands to drain the girl. Between trying to check her own consumption and ignore her mother's orders, she lost track of part of herself. She was aware of the blood flowing into her mouth and the never-ending pounding of her head but Kieta's moans gradually filtered through her haze. She broke away from the girl when she realized they were sounds of pleasure.

Her mouth dropped open with shock when she discovered she was caressing the woman's unfettered breast through the thin cotton T-s.h.i.+rt. More disconcerting was the realization that her panties were damp and she was breathing hard with arousal. Her mother's commands became less demanding, more sensuous, as she whispered in Nikia's mind about how pleasurable it would be to f.u.c.k the girl.

Her hand trembled and she flicked her thumb across Kieta's nipple. Nikia sensed danger but couldn't stop herself from leaning forward to kiss the girl on the mouth. As Kieta's tongue touched hers, she moaned with need. Her mind replaced Kieta with an image of Atar and her p.u.s.s.y flooded with heat.

"Drink from her. Take her. Drain her."

The words whispered through her mind but even couched in a seductive tone, they were enough to bring instant awareness. With a cry of dismay, Nikia backed away from the girl. She had enough forethought to lock gazes with Kieta before giving in to her panic. "You won't remember this. Now get out."

When the girl had gone, Nikia slumped against the sink. She splashed cold water on her mouth, both to remove stains of copper down her chin and to wash away the taste of Kieta.

She wasn't attracted to women and the kiss scared her but it wasn't what caused the fear. Knowing Illiana had been able to almost seize control of her again was what made her blood run cold. While she had been busy feeding and trying to ignore her mother's darker impulses, Illiana had finessed her way through Nikia's defenses. Another minute or two and she would have won.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on Nikia when she made her way back to her seat. She collapsed into it and closed her eyes to slits. She paused to scrutinize Kieta, who seemed confused and upset as she spoke to the young man beside her. She didn't think the girl would remember anything but couldn't be certain of her mental powers, not after Illiana breaching them.

It was time to surrender herself to Atar and return to Corsova. She couldn't be sure she could hold off Illiana and she couldn't risk countless lives for a taste of freedom.

* * * * * She waited for him to find her at a coffeehouse near the train station. Nikia had been there since the train arrived at three a.m., sitting on one of the patio chairs, killing time. When the owner came down from his apartment above the shop at six, he hadn't blinked an eye. Instead, he had served her rich Italian coffee, along with a pitcher of real cream and kept the cup filled during her vigil.

It was a little after seven when she saw Atar approaching. His stance was wary, as if he suspected a trap, with her sitting out in the open as she was. She tried to give him a little smile, for rea.s.surance. "I've been expecting you."

He arched a brow but said nothing else. She frowned when he took something from his pocket. Nikia squinted to identify the object. Her eyes widened when he lifted it higher and pointed it at her. She identified the Taser seconds before the two probes penetrated her skin. A jolt of electricity followed the sharp pain, sending Nikia into unconsciousness in a matter of seconds.

Nikia experienced a sense ofdeja vu upon waking. Once again, she was lying on her back, with her hands above her head, handcuffed to a headboard of a strange bed. There were some differences, of course-like the gag in her mouth and her complete lack of clothing. Sometime after bringing her here, he had stripped her bare. She writhed with a combination of humiliation and excitement at the thought.

She lifted her head to examine the room, deciding not to let him know how intimidating it was to be naked before him. From the furnis.h.i.+ngs in the room, such as the white carpet, gilt-edged mirror on the wall and dark-cherry furniture, she determined they were in a three or four-star hotel room. One thing her visual search didn't reveal was Atar's presence. Where was he? She craned her neck in an awkward angle and saw him sitting in the corner in a straight-back chair. His gaze didn't waver from hers. His colorless eyes managed to smolder with anger and repressed desire. She s.h.i.+vered as they raked her from head to foot. She tried to speak, not knowing what she would say but the gag m.u.f.fled her words, making them unintelligible.

Her attempt to talk received a reaction. He rose from the chair and walked toward her. He had the air of a hunter and she knew she was his prey. The thought inspired more desire than terror and she briefly wondered if Illiana was taking over again. She frowned when realizing her mother wouldn't have any attraction to Atar. It was purely her own urges driving her. She met that realization with mingled relief and dread. If she was the one who felt this way, there was no one to rein her in and no one to blame.

He stopped when he reached the bed, standing over her with a grim expression. His first words were a shock. "Why did you have to make this complicated, Nikia?"

Her eyes widened and she tried to speak again, to refute his claim. If she had known Illiana was so close to regaining control, she might have surrendered the first time he captured her. Since she hadn't known, why would she have? She settled for glaring at him.

"This was supposed to be easy." His hand settled on her shoulder, rubbing in gentle circles that were a distinct contrast to his almost-angry tone. "How did you get in my mind?" He frowned. "No one has ever been able to do that, not even my mother."

She tried to shrug, to indicate she didn't know. It hadn't been that difficult but she didn't think he would appreciate hearing that, especially if he was impervious to mind-control from others, usually. His voice lowered. "I should be outraged at the violation, and I am, but that's not what bothers me most." His hand slipped lower and his fingertips grazed the top of one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "What angers me more than anything is that you seduced me into unconsciousness, left me in a state of frustration and stole my blood." His voice had risen as he delivered the statement and it took on an icy tinge when he said, "Now, it's your turn to be teased and frustrated."

She swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to protest, not sure what she would say if he removed the gag. Should she apologize or would he take that as pandering? In truth, she owed him an apology for leaving him unconscious and taking some of his blood but what right did he have to just take her against her will-then or now? Anger fired her blood and she struggled against the handcuffs, squirming and arching her back in an attempt to gain enough leverage to free herself. To her surprise, the slats of the bed creaked, although the cuffs didn't budge. She was about to try again with even more force, if she could muster it but froze when Atar's hand settled on her breast. He held her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly. Nikia gasped when he pulled. Tingles radiated through her, causing her stomach to quiver and her nipples to harden.

He chuckled. "You might hate admitting it but you aren't immune to my touch." He tugged once more before gentling his hold, to lightly roll the nipple between his fingers. "Maybe it wasn't all an act when you set out to seduce me for your freedom in Constanta." His expression indicated he would grant no quarter, even if that were the case. He seemed determined to carry out his erotic revenge before returning her to Corsova.

She refused to beg for mercy. Maybe she didn't even want to escape what he planned to do to her.

Was she depraved for longing for his touch, even knowing what he thought of her? Did it matter that he was touching her for all the wrong reasons, as long as it felt good?

She closed her eyes when he cupped her breast in his hand, pressing his palm against the hard nipple.

She arched her back, seeking more but he lifted his hand as she did so. Once again, the pressure was only minimal, making her writhe with need.

Nikia opened her eyes in time to see him lowering his head. She moaned when he moved his hand from her breast to her stomach and his tongue darted out to swirl around her nipple. Her p.u.s.s.y convulsed when he suckled lightly, while tracing one of her ribs with his thumb.

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